Liaodong Town, the setting sun bled like crimson.
Outside the pass, the Tartar army swaggered back leisurely, not taking a wisp of cloud with them.
Inside the pass, countless soldiers of Liaodong Town shuttled across the city walls, silently gathering the corpses of their fallen brothers.
They had held the city gates.
Yet inside those gates, there was little joy of victory to be seen.
Only numbness.
An inevitable numbness.
The Tartars swaggered up to their gates, swaggered as they killed their brethren, and swaggered back to their forts.
And they could only watch helplessly as they approached, watch helplessly as they left, heads bowed, silently gathering the corpses of their fallen...
'Why should they bully us like this?'
'Why?'
Many spirited young men asked in their hearts.
Many a tough man who had never cried out in pain even when stabbed, now crouched in corners, secretly wiping away tears with dirty sleeves.
